


Anniversary

by LittleBugsie (orphan_account)



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Underfell, Angst, Biologically male Frisk, Blood, F/F, Frisk Needs A Hug, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Hurt/Comfort, Misgendering, Murder, Protective Papyrus, Protective Sans, Set after Frisk freed monsters, Swearing, everyone is protective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2018-12-24 08:43:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12009159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LittleBugsie
Summary: Tomorrow was very important. It marked the one year anniversary of monsters being on the surface, celebrating their savior, Frisk. It was sure to be filled with Happy faces and friendly banter. At least that's what everyone thought.





	1. Flour

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy.

Frisk was the kind of child who never gave up. Their heart was full of determination so strong that not even the greatest and bravest of people could comprehend it. Even when they were beaten to a bloody mess on the floor, they would stand up and give a smile, Although a little crooked, and wipe their damp eyes with a tattered sleeve from their old striped sweater.

It really was quite a sight to behold. The first time Sans met the kid, he could tell they were different. Cheesy as that sounded, it was true. Their squinted eyes held something special, while their battered body spoke of trials and tribulations. Yet as soon as they looked up at him, they didn't seem fazed by their troubles one bit. Or by the fact they were staring at a literal skeleton.

They cracked a small smile when he tricked them with a buzzer in his right hand. There was a gap in their teeth as they let out gleeful giggles, and they tried hazardously to fix their frizzy hair once they realized the shock had messed it up.

Sans gave the speech that he had prepared, about his ruthless brother Papyrus, about how he had orders to kill any humans that come through the door, and about how he didn't take orders from fucking anyone. Even from King "Assgore". When he heard his brother's footsteps fast approaching, he directed the tiny tike to a conveniently shaped lamp, if they didn't want to die a painful and terrible death.

And all through this, the child didn't have much of a reaction to any of it. They didn't rush to the lamp as fast as they could in fear of the human killing Papyrus, or jump out of the way in surprise when a sharpened bone pierced the lamp and shattered it into pieces, curtesy of a furious tall skeleton. Luckily they were just out of reach of being impaled in the chest.

Anyways, the point was, they were a fearless force to be reckoned with.

That is not to say they didn't have weaknesses. Just like any human being, Frisk had their faults. Most of them were well hidden and easily squash-able by sheer perseverance, but the few problems that were stronger lasted forever in their soul. Of course, that didn't mean the kid couldn't try to hide their weaknesses, oh no. They were very capable (and great) at hiding their problems.

There was only ever one occurrence where Sans had seen them completely and utterly broken.

It was the first anniversary of being on the surface. It celebrated freedom and peace between humans and monster, and it was centered around the one who made it all happen. Frisk Magnolia, the one who saved all of monster kind from eternal darkness in the underground. The savior of an entire race. It was a momentous occasion, sure to be filled with smiling faces and friendly chatter.

Here's what happened:

\---

"Frisk? Could you be a dear and fetch some flour for me? I seem to have run out!" Toriel called out, standing over a bowl of mixed ingredients. She was preparing a cake for the special day, and it had to be absolutely perfect. Not even a teaspoon less of flour would do.

The music from Frisk's room echoed into the kitchen, booming with bass and shaking the whole house. Toriel's expression turned slightly sour. Her yellow and sunken eyes turned to their door, and her feet carried her over to it. She slammed her fist onto the hard wood surface several times, knowing a simple knock wouldn't do shit to get the message across.

After a few seconds, the music turned down, but not all the way off. Frisk opened the door and peeked their head out, looking up at their mother-figure indifferently.

"Yeah?" They spoke smoothly, not worried about any repercussions involving having ear damaging screamo music playing so loud even someone ten miles away could of heard it. Frisk's foot tapped rhythmically on the floor, with purpose and vigor. They had a tendency to do those kinds of things without noticing. Like pulling on their fingers, twisting strands of hair, and picking nails. Just some habits they picked up over the 9 years of their life.

"I asked if you could get me some flour from the store down the street. Honestly sweets, turn down the music a little...scratch that, a lot." Toriel rolled her eyes, unamused at her child's antics.

Frisk smiled and said, "You got it, boss!"

As they marched out of their bedroom (literally), they turned on a heel and their smile turned into a sly smirk.

"Oh, and by the way, after I get the flour, Imma be going on a date. I met this really chill dude, and I think we had a real connection, ya'know what I mean?" They had this convincing tone about their voice. Toriel raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" She said smugly, "I think it's a little too early for dating, 9-Year-Old-Who-Thinks-They're-Older."

Frisk pouted.

"I'm old enough!" They defied, with no real defiance entering their tone. They knew the conversation was all in good fun.

Toriel winked. "Wait a few years, sweets. Now go! Get me my flour!"

She stood up straight, pushing the Monster Ambassador out the door and closing it before they could rush back in.

Frisk huffed and turned toward the street, setting their sights on the grocery store across it. They headed that way, looking both ways before quickly crossing the road and entering the brightly lit mall. It was a small and inviting place, with isles packed full of food and people. Well, some people would argue that the amount of customers was a bad thing, what with how crowded it was.

But Frisk didn't really mind. They marched along each isle with purpose, searching for flour but still taking their time to soak up all the other things they could snatch up and buy for themselves.

Quite a few eyes turned to them. Maybe they recognized the child from national television. After all, they were responsible for freeing an entire race of friendly not so friendly monsters from their prison underground. Not a big deal. Or perhaps it was just because a child was walking around the store with no parental supervisor. Whichever works.

Suddenly, something flying through the air hit Frisk directly on the forehead, knocking them backwards and almost making them fall to the hard tile floor. Every store customer's head whips around to stare, and a collective gasp spreads through the entire mall. All goes silent, and Frisk regains their balance.

"Uuuuhhh...my head..." They moaned, gently massaging the forming bruise between their eyebrows. They looked down to identify what it was that hit them. A rock the size of a golf ball lay rocking slightly on the tile, a spot of blood covering its ragged surface. Frisk removed their fingers from the wound, finding blood on their hand. They gave a nonchalant hum.

"Oh my goodneth! Arh you alrighth?!"

A young boy missing his two front teeth came running up, a worried expression clear on his face. He quickly picked up the rock and inspected it.

Frisk gave a smile. "Yeah, I'm fi-" before they could finish their sentence, the boy spoke again, slightly annoyed this time.

"Not you! My rock!"

Frisk tilted their head, very confused. "Wha-"

"Oh noh! Poor Mister Rockster! Did you get bloodth on you?" Currently ignoring the child he just pelted with a rock, the boy pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, and started furiously rubbing off the drying blood from the stone. By now, all the customers have already went back to their own business, searching the store for the respective things they need.

Frisk sniffed. "Excuse me, but wha-"

"Don talk to meh! You got bloodth on Mister Rockster!" The boy snapped, glaring at them with such hatred even Flowey would've been impressed. Frisk took a step back, half expecting the kid to attack them for hurting his precious mineral.

Frisk just wanted to be able to finish a simple sentence at this point.

"You're right. I'm sorry for doing such a horrid thing to Mister Rockster..." Frisk said finally, silently congratulating themselves for finishing their thought.

The boy looked at them skeptically.

"V-very wellth, you areh forg-forgiven." He said after a beat. Frisk smiled big.

"So, what's your name? I'm Frisk." They introduced themselves politely, giving an elegant bow. They looked the boy up and down, taking in his appearance. He wore a loose blue turtleneck which was two sizes too big for him, and a pair of green shorts. His bright green eyes were big and glistening, and his button nose went perfectly with his pouty lips. He wore a red cap over his short black hair.

The boy looked mildly surprised at the fact they were still talking to him. He stuttered over his words slightly,

"O-oh, my name'th Dernin."

"That's a nice name," Frisk paused, "where are your parents?"

Dernin's brows furrowed. "I could ask'th you the same'h thing."

Frisk laughed. "Good point. How old are you? I am nine years old!" They said proudly, lifting their chin up. Dernin scoffed, like that wasn't impressive at all. It probably wasn't.

"I'm ten." He said, obviously establishing superiority in age. Still not a whole lot older, but he was older nonetheless. Frisk's jaw fell open, like it was the best thing they'd ever heard in their life.

"AWESOME!"

With the ego boost, Dernin smiled, showing all his teeth that were still present.

\---

An alarming sense of forgetting something washed over Frisk as they chatted with their new friend Dernin, but they couldn't quite put their finger on it. It had something to do with why they were in the store to begin with...?

They couldn't remember.

Until their eyes caught sight of one certain cooking ingredient.

They gasped.

"THE FLOUR!!!"

In a flurry of rushed movements, Frisk flew across the mall and skidded on the tile, stopping just before they rammed into the shelf. Their hands snatched up a bag of flour, and they carried the heavy thing to the check out like it was nothing, quickly tossing money at the worker at the cash register. Dernin ran up the Frisk, panting and confused.

"W-what'th is you doin'?"

"Sorry but I gotta go home and give this to Toriel she'll be so mad I took forever so I have to hurry ok goodbye Dernin see ya later!" They regurgitated the words like vomit, and then ran out the door as fast as lightning.

Dernin stared after them as they ran across the street.

"What'th a weirdo..."

\---

Frisk busted through the door of their house, holding the bag of white powder used for baking above their head in triumph. Toriel popped her head out of the kitchen with a glare. Sans and Papyrus, who sat on the couch patiently, both had amused expressions.

Frisk looked at them with wide black eyes. Completely abandoning the flour on the carpeted floor, they ran up to the skeleton brothers and jumped into Sans's arms. He chuckled, ruffling their hair with his free hand. Frisk then jumped into Papyrus's arms, snuggling into his soft scarf.

"You guys came over!" They lifted their head with furrowed eyebrows, "you didn't even tell me!"

Sans shrugged. "Hey, we wanted to surprise you."

Papyrus nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Frisk. We thought it would make the visit even more special."

Frisk heard someone clear their throat loudly behind them. They slowly turned around to face Toriel, all the while still in Papyrus's bony grip. She has a fierce glare, but Frisk could tell there was a hint of amusement behind her eyes.

They laughed nervously, giving her a lopsided smile. "Sorry for taking so long...I made a new friend! I just lost track of time while talking."

"That's no excuse, child. Go to your room. You were gone for a whole hour!" Toriel said sternly. Frisk pouted.

"Fiiiiiiiiiiiine...but I'm taking Sans and Paps with me!" They grinned. Sans laughed.

"Don't drag us into this, brat!" He said playfully.

Frisk grabbed both Sans and Papyrus's hands, pulling them off the couch. "Too late!" They giggled, "come on!" They led the brothers to their room, and Toriel gave a silent apology to the skeletons as they got dragged away by the nine year old.

\---

"There's something I wanna show you."

The mystery in their voice was enough to get the skeletons interested. The brothers turned their skulls toward the child, curiosity playing at their would-be-brows. Frisk laughed at their reactions. Still smiling, they pulled out a notebook from behind their pillow, flipping through it until they got to the desired page.

They flipped it around to proudly show their work of art.

It was a simple drawing, made with pencil and crayon. The background was just like any other children's picture, with the sun in the corner and blue scribbled on the top for the sky. And on the grassy ground, was Sans, Frisk, and Papyrus, all holding hands.

Frisk anxiously waited for approval from their peers. They smiled nervously, saying, "I ran out of yellow crayon, so I had to use red for your golden tooth, Sans. Sorry it looks like blood, hehe."

Sans chuckled. "I like it, kid. Ya did a good job." He ruffled their hair. Papyrus took the notebook from their hands and inspected it with mock criticism. He was having trouble holding back a grin.

"I don't know, Frisk the human. The technique you used was quite average, and while the scenery is vibrant, crayon may not be the best-"

Sans snatched the drawing away from Papyrus. The three of them burst into laughter, and Frisk said with bubbles of giggles still entering their voice,

"Thank you for your constructive criticism, Paps, hehehe, I'll be sure to work on my skills later."

After their little outburst of glee, all of them went back to talking about recent news, what they've been doing lately, the usual small talk.

In a few hours it was finally time for the skeleton brothers to head out. Frisk was reluctant to let them go, dangling off of Papyrus's arm as he got ready to leave. Sans tried to pull them off, promising that they'd both be back tomorrow for the big day, but Frisk was having none of it.

Toriel was eventually able to rip them away with some stern talking, and the bros ran out the door, hopping into their car and driving away. Frisk waved their hand idly as a goodbye, pouting like a child who wasn't allowed to get candy at the store. Toriel set them down, walking back into the kitchen to work on the cake.

Slowly Frisk made it back to their room, jumping onto their bed and whipping out their phone. Quickly they sent a text message to Sans.

*hey. When are u finally gonna admit u have no idea what ur doing?

They didn't mean to be rude, but it was about time he got his shit together. Lately it seemed the only thing that kept him alive was his brother. They were worried. Frisk knew from the light circles under his sockets, and the unusual way he looked at them, that something wasn't right. Without notice, the young ambassador started chewing on their nails, waiting anxiously for a response.

When they heard a ding from their phone, they knew exactly what his answer would be.

*listen brat, i don't have to admit anything. So bug off.

Frisk glared at the screen before typing.

*i know something's up. Just tell me what's wrong, and I'll fix it!

*u can't fix everything frisk, u should know that by now. Ur a kid, and I'll admit, a strong one, but ur not some kind of god. I'm only gonna say this once, don't go sniffing around for trouble. Keep out of other people's business, at least until this anniversary shit is done. U can do that, right?

*i don't know if I can, Sans.

* _ **right?**_

He wasn't going to let this go unless they said okay. Frisk sighed.

*okay. >:(

They put the angry face just to show him they were annoyed. How were they supposed to stay out of it?! He was part of their family, and any business of their family members was business of theirs. Feeling the beginnings of frustrated tears, Frisk furiously wiped their eyes. Now was not the time to be crying.

Tomorrow was the biggest event of the year. They couldn't mess it up with their pitiful tears. They were stronger than that, they knew it.

Looking out the window, the soft colors of the sun setting glowed through the glass, illuminating the tired circles under Frisk's eyes. They would never tell anyone, but the thought of attending such an occasion was nerve-wracking. All the people, invading their personal space, showering them in congratulations, news reporters trying to cough up some bad rumor or gossip from them...

It would be torture.

And the little quip at the back of their head, constantly reminding them of the possibility that-

"Light's out, sweets!" Toriel's silky voice drifted through the crack of their door, snapping them out of whatever realm they transported to. Frisk realized they were shaking pretty bad, and immediately went to rub their arms to calm down.

"Frisk?" Toriel called again, a hint of worry etched in her tone.

"Y-yeah, I know! I'll turn off the light now!" Dang. They really didn't mean to stutter. Leaning on their bed and stretching their hand, they quickly flicked the light switch, darkness enveloping them completely.

They laid down heavily on their pillow, lifting their blanket and tucking themselves under it.

Somehow, without a single doubt in their mind, Frisk knew nightmares would be waiting for them as soon as they closed their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :p


	2. A Long Day Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk wakes up from a nightmare, and begins to question whether this whole anniversary is really worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I finally got this chapter done! It took many days staring at the wall just figuring out which words went together lol but I prevailed! As always I hope you enjoy and have a great day.

_"Dad? Will you read me a story?" they asked, innocently. Their father turned, and smiled._

_"Sure, cupcake."_

_He went to the bookshelf, looking for just the right story to tell. Eventually he picked up one particularly beaten cover, bringing it over to the bed and sitting on a fold up chair next to it. Frisk clapped excitedly, grinning from ear to ear as they settled down, wrapped up snugly in their blanket._

_"Now, this one is about family. Not just any family, though. A broken family, torn apart by trials and tribulations. If it gets too sad, just tell me to stop, okay?"_

_Frisk nodded. Clearing his throat, their father began._

_"Once upon a time, a time not so far away, there lived a child. In their infancy, a kind mother cradled them carefully, taking care not to drop them. For most of that time, everything was peaceful. The baby was healthy, happy, and loved.  
However, on their fourth birthday, when the sun was high and the leaves were rustling, their mother had a fall. Do not be mistaken, it was not a simple trip or stumble, but a jump. So high and so soaring, but the sound of a sharp crack at the end made it bitter."_

_Frisk looked up at the man reading, and felt a twinge of fear. His face had changed, evil and twisted. How he spoke no longer carried compassion, and his eyes were red like fire. Trying to move, it was a futile attempt. Long chains held them down and bit into their skin, rattling like snakes while they forced them immobile._

_The man continued, his voice slowly speeding up to a ramble._

_"The child was alone. For once there was no hope, and they wandered the streets scared and shaky. Many years past, and the child's determination kept depleting with time. No one helped them, not so much as gave them a glance. Then, when they were eight, they climbed a mountain-"_

_"STOP!" Frisk screamed desperately._

_" **and ended up exactly like their mother.** " The man finished gleefully, snapping the book shut and lunging with both hands directly for Frisk's open throat._

  
———————

  
Frisk opened their eyes with a scream, tumbling out of their bed in a panic. Their heart raced as fast as their head, and they jumped up, gasping and gulping for air. Desperately, they latched onto their mattress, pulling themselves up and quickly hiding under their silk blanket.

"It was just a dream, it was just a dream..." They mumbled as they rocked back and forth rhythmically. Nothing felt more real though, and for a second Frisk could feel the subsiding ghost of chains pulling at their skin.

Their breath hitched, and before they could stop it tears went dribbling down their flushed cheeks. Old memories returned to their torment soaked brain, fear crippling them to a sobbing mess on their bed.

They couldn't do this. No matter how much they denied it, they just couldn't go to that momentous celebration. The risk was way to high for their heart to handle, and they knew the crowded grounds would send them into a panic.

They couldn't let that happen. Couldn't let anyone see them like that. Their pride should stay intact for as long as humanly possible, they reassured themselves.

Maybe they could fake an illness? Or perhaps lie that they twisted their ankle?

Frisk pondered for a moment before finally glancing at the clock.

8:30 in the morning.

_Just great. I’m supposed to meet Undyne for training in thirty minutes. How am I supposed to act normal on a day like this?_ They internally groaned. Roughly, they wiped their stray tears away, sniffling with a frown.

_Stupid anniversary._ They thought, frustration clear on their brow thinking about the impending event.

It seemed everyone was excited for it except them. Which was a little ridiculous because the whole damn thing was for them! The music, the food, the presents, everything! All for a child who couldn’t get their act together.

Looking back, they regretted sending that text message to Sans at all. He was doing the best he could, while they sat and cried like a little baby at their problems. At least he was doing something.

All they could do was fail, fall down, and not get back up...

“Frisk, sweetie? Time for breakfast!” Toriel called out from the kitchen.

Suddenly dragged out of their self-deprecating brain, Frisk stared at the door where tasty food awaited just beyond its wooden frame. They realized the emptiness in their stomach, and licked their lips.

“Coming!” They said, crawling out of bed and putting on their best happy face. The beautiful aroma of sweet pancakes and syrup invaded their nostrils as they walked outside to face the day. Though their heart was still heavy, the thought of Toriel’s delicious, delectable, absolutely mouthwatering pancakes made the weight on their chest all the more bearable.

Seeing Toriel in the kitchen humming a delightful tune, Frisk ran up to her, nearly bringing her down to the floor with one of their big bear hugs. They stuffed their face into her wooly dress, feeling the urge to just spill out all their secrets right at that moment.

But they couldn’t.

It would only end up hurting everyone in the process.

Toriel gave a surprised gasp at their sudden embrace, but quickly returned the affection with a soft pat on their messy haired head.

“Alright now sweets, no need to get clingy,” she smiled, “you’ll be having plenty hugs and kisses from everyone this evening.”

Frisk reluctantly pulled away, smiling as they sat down on their chair, waiting patiently for breakfast to be set in front of them. The smell was overwhelming now, and they relished in it.

Suddenly, a heaping pile of sweet, syrup drowning pancakes were placed on the table, with Toriel on the sidelines grinning ear to ear.

“Ta-daaa!” She exclaimed giddily, clapping her hands together. She sighed (not unhappily), obviously fulfilled and exhausted from the work and time it took to create the masterpiece. Frisk picked up their fork and nearly stabbed themselves digging into the feast before them, eating as much as they could fit into their stomach.

The flavors overpowered their tastebuds in the best kind of way, making them almost salivate all over their plate.

After scarfing down the fluffy cakes, they reached for their cup of fresh orange juice, chugging it down without breaths in between gulps.

It was by far the most magical breakfast they had ever had the pleasure of devouring.

The monster ambassador put their glass down gently and gave a sigh of contentment.

“That. Was. The most delicious thing...I have ever devoured,” Frisk paused, “IN MY LIFE!”

Toriel laughed at their overreaction, her yellow eyes closing in hilarity. She was glad they enjoyed the special breakfast for the very special day, but the child’s never yielding passion for food amused her to no end.

Frisk looked up at their red dress clad goat mother, her yellow eyes quietly sending them straight back in time. They remembered when they met the former queen like it was yesterday; the stuffy underground atmosphere, the rock walls and hopping froggits; absolutely everything was still fresh in their mind.

  
——————

  
Frisk cautiously transversed the dark ruins, the only source of light around them coming from the brightly lit glow worms above. Their tattered striped sweater was slowly becoming more dilapidated with every battle they went through, fierce froggits and moody whimsuns trying to beat every inch of their already battered body.

They never let that deter them though. They weren’t quite sure why they were so determined not to be defeated, but ever since they fell down here, they were filled with a confidence that they hadn’t felt ever before. It was strange to say the least, but the child wasn’t against the feeling.

It felt good. It felt empowering. It felt new.

Frisk breathed deeply through their nose as they continued their search for anything besides soul hungry monsters. Even a not-so-soul hungry monster would be better than this. At least they hoped so.

  
_Tap. Tap. Tap._

  
The child froze in their tracks. The light pitter-patter of footsteps put Frisk on edge, and they almost swore under their breath. Something was coming their way. Usually, under any other circumstances, Frisk would’ve turned tail and ran. But once again, the feeling of absolute confidence made them stand their ground. They gulped heavily, waiting with baited breath until the monster came into view.

It was...a goat?

A really terrifying one at that. Its bright, sunken yellow eyes stared at them in surprise, and both monster and human stood apart from each other, quietly observing the other, completely egad. Frisk’s eyes finally found the courage to wander from the beast’s golden eyes, and they spotted a basket of ghastly snails gripped tightly in the goat’s hand.

“H-“ they coughed, and had to clear their throat, “hi.” Frisk waved meekly, not sure if the thing could understand them, but wanting to try anyway. The monster seemed to frown, and suddenly, it started to walk toward them.

Sweating profusely now, Frisk rocked their heels back and forth in a nervous motion. The fiercely intimidating beast was still approaching them at an alarmingly calm pace. That was able to settle their nerves a bit. Not a lot, though.

It was right in front of them now. Frisk could see straight into its watery irises, and they couldn’t feel anything as they held their breath.

A deep huff of hot air suddenly blew them a few steps back, ruffling their hair backward, and making the young child blink several times in mild surprise. Frisk stared at the goat monster, noticing the amused eye-roll it gave them. Not being able to contain their childish desire to laugh at its ridiculous expression, Frisk bursted out into happy, bubbly giggles.

What a funny looking goat.

Their laughing obviously broke the odd tension in the air, and the monster smiled down at them.

“Hello, child. I wasn’t expecting to see a human today.”

“And I wasn’t expecting to see a monster!”

Wait...was it rude to call it a monster? At this point they should probably stop calling her “it” as well.

“Then I suppose we are both surprised. What is your name?” She asked.

“Frisk, and you?”

“Toriel.”

“Nice to meet you.” Frisk said happily.

“likewise.”

A few moments past in silence, but the bouncy youngster came up with something to say eventually. They asked if there was any possible way to get out of here, and Toriel neither confirmed or denied that question. Frisk shrugged it off, still too naive to notice anything fishy about the tall goat/sheep amalgamation.

Turns out they were in for a hell of a roller coaster of emotions.

  
——————

  
“Do you want me to drive you to Undyne’s or should she come over here?”

Frisk was dragged out of memory land quite abruptly, and they cleared their throat loudly to respond to their monster mother.

“She can come over if that’s okay with her.” They said.

Toriel nodded, smiling gently as she noticed the tired look on her child’s face. “Do you want to cancel? It’s a big day, and you need to conserve your energy.”

“I’m fine, I can still train.” They barely got out before yawning and rubbing their eyes harshly.

Toriel looked skeptical, but she let it go. If she knew anything about Frisk, it was that they could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes. Once they decided something, there was no convincing them to do otherwise.

“Alright then, if you insist...”

Frisk knew what Toriel was thinking at that moment, but they couldn’t find themselves giving in and ditching training. So what if they were tired? So what if their head was full of bees and their eyes stung like fire? They were still going to try to keep their chipper attitude.

No matter how much they felt like dying on the spot.

It was going to be a long day...

 

_Without a doubt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez Frisk, might wanna take a nap, huh?


	3. Escape Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk saw something they didn’t want to, and frantic escaping ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy :)

Training was as it was any other day.

Except for the fact that Frisk couldn’t swing a punch without stumbling over themselves. Their tiny fists halfheartedly made it to Undyne’s stressed jeans, and the fish lady looked down at them quizzically.

“Hey brat!” She yelled, making Frisk jump and look scared out of their wits. Her tone went calmer as she continued. “Are you feeling alright?”

Frisk glanced around, confused, as if they didn’t hear what she said.

“What?” They drawled.

Undyne sighed heavily, crouching down to be eye level with the dazed child. Although she put on a tough face, underneath all those scales she was beginning to worry about her little scamp. Who at the moment wasn’t acting scampish at all.

“Something fishy has been going on with you today,” Frisk almost snorted at the unintended pun, “and I don’t appreciate being left in the dark. If something’s up, tell me.”

Frisk looked at Undyne through lidded eyes, and didn’t respond for quite some time. For a moment, the child’s fight teacher was hopeful they would finally spill their guts out to her.

Unfortunately though, she had no such luck.

“Can we fight now?”

_Great. Just great. They decided to dodge the question like it was another monster in the underground._

Undyne groaned, staring up at ceiling as though it would hold the answer on how to deal with this insufferable kid. There was no way she was going to train with someone half dead on their feet.

“Sorry sport, but I’m not gonna train with you until you tell me what’s wrong.” To make her point clearer, she sat completely down onto the carpeted floor adamantly, grinning as Frisk pouted.

“Well then I guess we’re not gonna train!” They raised their voice, futilely trying to look intimidating. To Undyne, they just looked like a child throwing a fit.

“I guess not.” She replied smoothly, returning the ambassador’s hard glare. Her stare reminded Frisk of something they really didn’t want to remember. So, to avoid looking into her eyes, they quickly turned around, stomping out of their room before Undyne could say anything else.

They seriously didn’t know what they were doing today.

Closing the door behind them, Frisk headed toward the bathroom, hoping some cold water would relieve some of the stress building up inside them. They could hear Toriel downstairs finishing up some food for the party, whistling something sweet.

They gently shut the washroom door, locking it and drowning out the sound of Toriel’s melody. The child hopped onto a stool to peer into the mirror, noticing the deep circles under their eyes and the deeply distressed hair atop their head.

Frisk turned on the sink and gathered a puddle of water into both their palms, splashing it messily all over their face. It suddenly felt like something was painfully squeezing their heart, and Frisk put a hand to their chest. For just a second, the mutilated face of a tall man flashed across the mirror, and then it was gone. Frisk flung backwards in horror, mouth agape and breathing heavy.

They were thankful they didn’t scream. Although, they did make a crash when they fell onto the hard tile, and soon there was knocking on the door.

“You okay in there, squirt?” It was Undyne. “Listen, I know you probably don’t wanna hear this, but I’m gonna say it anyway, dammit. I’m not about to let my bestie be tired on a day like this.”

Frisk wasn’t listening as they scoured the room with their eyes, trying desperately to calm their racing heart.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, fine. But I need to know that you’re okay, okay?”

_The window._

Frisk head snapped up to the window at the very top of the wall. It was small, and narrow, but so was Frisk. They needed to get out of here. They grabbed their stool and took it to the wall, climbing atop it and standing on their very tippy toes.

“Frisk? Come on, brat, answer me...please?”

Undyne never said please. Frisk hesitated for a moment, but with one look at the trees outside their resolve was strengthened. They heaved themselves up and quickly opened the window, using their elbow to smash the screen out. Undyne knocked again and wiggled the door knob.

Frisk put their head out and a wave of sweet fresh air hit them. When they looked down, however, everything didn’t seem so sweet. They were currently on the second floor of the house, and seeing the grass so far down made them want to vomit.

_Jump._

Without thinking, without so much as blinking or breathing, in a flash Frisk was falling.

Meanwhile, Undyne decided she was tired of knocking, and proceeded to bash the door in. When she didn’t see the monster ambassador anywhere in sight, she yelled for Toriel.

  
Little did both of them know that the child was already long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil cackling*


	4. Consequences Will Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk runs, and meets a familiar face in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaah this chapter is short and took way to long to piece together and publish I’m sorry! >___<

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

That was the mantra going on in Frisk’s head as soon as they started running, the small house behind them only getting smaller as they made the sprint towards the forest. An array of diverse and beautiful trees awaited them, yet it still didn’t deter or calm the child’s spirit.

It was just like them to make a split decision like that, wasn’t it? Always acting out of emotion and not thinking about the consequences that would entail.

Out of all the days to run away, it had to be on the most important date in monster history.

They tried to convince themselves they wouldn’t be gone for long, and would eventually return home before all the events even started, but the memory of the figure in the mirror was sure to hold them back longer.

The young ambassador already started formulating an explanation in their head that they would tell their friends later. They weren’t exactly sure yet on how to explain why they broke a window and jumped out it, though.

How would any of their recent actions make any sense to their family?

Lately it was like Frisk was in a completely different body. Or maybe it was them, and they really were a crazy, delusional, schizophrenic kid like everyone said on that sunny day when they were at the tender age of five.

Feeling dizzy, Frisk stopped in a peaceful clearing near a pond, promptly vomiting into its sky reflecting water. They retched and spit up any remaining bile, groaning softly as they collapsed onto the prickly grass.

The surrounding trees rustled in the wind, releasing a piny scent into the air. Frisk soaked it in and took a deep breath, still sweaty and panting like a dog.

They tried to breathe normally, but every attempt ended in failure, and they soon realized it was because they were crying.

Hot tears poured down their cheeks in a steady stream, making them sniff and wipe a sleeve across their face.

In, out, in, out, yet every breath beheld another sob.

They really needed to reel it in. Crying never got them anything except slaps on the face and no dinner for weeks. Frisk silently chastised themselves for thinking such a thing. Their father wasn’t here, he was gone, and they were safe. Still, their brain liked to torture them, and their sobs became even louder as it made them recall every broken bone, every black eye, every. Single. Split. Lip.

They screamed at the sky, beating their hand into the dirt in frustration.

“ _Frisk?”_

They froze in shock, stopping their assault on the ground to spin around and see the body of the voice. Their vocals were hoarse and strained, but they couldn’t help the name that slipped their chapped lips.

“...Flowey?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next one will be longer! I’ve been having trouble focusing lately plz forgive this young writer’s heart


	5. Questions, Questions, Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toriel is an emotional wreck, Sans is angry, and everyone is just concerned. Meanwhile, Frisk and Flowey have a long chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this was a journey and a half to write haha.

Toriel was panicked and scared. Within five minutes of Frisk going missing she had texted everyone to meet her at her house immediately. The only thing she had to tell them was it had something to do with Frisk, and all complied without question. Sans arrived first, of course, teleporting into her living room and frightening her half to death. She didn’t have to say anything before the skeleton knew something was wrong.

_**“What did the little shit do?”**_ His eye sockets were empty of their usual white pinpricks as he spoke in his deep and serious voice. **”I swear,**   _ **if they tried breaking into your liquor cabinet again, I did not encourage them-“**_

His speech was cut off by a sniff, and he stared at Toriel as he saw the beginning of tears in her eyes.

Oh.  _Oh._

He knew this was worse than the alcohol thing he suggested. If something like that had happened again, Toriel would be more angry than upset right now. Troubled tears ran down her cheeks and landed into the palms of her hands, forming a small puddle of despair.

Before he could kneel in front of her to ask what was wrong, the front door suddenly bashed in, revealing a very frazzled looking Undyne, sweaty and covered in twigs. She gasped for air and gulped it down quickly.

“I searched the woods everywhere...” Toriel’s face lit up in weary hope.

“I couldn’t find them anywhere.” She confessed sadly. “I’m sorry. Once everyone gets here we’ll all search together!”

Her face fell, and Undyne raced to her side. She rubbed comforting circles on her back, taking a glance at Sans. He was standing there, expression blank and hands dug deep into his coat pockets.

“What...happened to Frisk?” He asked, voice oddly steady and calm. Toriel and Undyne went silent. When Sans’s grin turned to a frown, Undyne took it upon herself to answer, quietly.

“They...they ran away.”

Sans froze on the spot, and for a second it seemed he wasn’t breathing. After many dragged out and painful seconds, he turned to Toriel with a frown. It was all he could manage, staring at her desperate face. Before he said, finally composed,

“Tell me exactly what happened before they ran away. Don’t leave anything out.”

Toriel was surprised by his demanding tone, but she didn’t let it show. At first she wasn’t sure where to begin. She decided to retell the events that happened that early morning.

“When they came out of their room for breakfast I could see that something wasn’t right. They looked so...exhausted. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, I knew if I asked they would just chalk it up to being tired...oh god, I’m such a terrible guardian...” Toriel gave another sob, leaning over as Undyne put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Sans ignored her self-deprecating comment, huffing frustratedly.

“And then?” He said eagerly. He really didn’t mean to sound so forceful, but he couldn’t shake the feeling his little buddy was in danger. This conversation needed to speed up so he could get a move on, find the squirt, and give them a stern talking to for doing something so reckless.

“Leave the poor woman alone, Sans! She’s trying her best!” Undyne almost growled. Her fists were formed into little balls. That did it.

“Trying her best?” Sans was incredulous. “Trying her best?! If she was trying her best, Frisk wouldn’t have ran away in the first place!” He spat with such venom it nearly shook the walls.

“That’s enough, Sans...” Undyne stood menacingly and took a step forward.

“Sa-“ Toriel tried.

**_“Don’t.”_ **

The room went silent. Sans glared daggers at both Undyne and Toriel, his left eye burning red with contempt. He scoffed, and in a flash, was gone. For the first time all morning, Undyne felt her tense muscles ease, and she sighed.

Surprisingly, Toriel wasn’t crying anymore, just staring off into nothing.

She had put a hand over her mouth when Sans lashed out, and it was still there, slightly shaky. Neither of them had ever seen the burly skeleton genuinely angry. It was, as each of them thought...

Absolutely terrifying.

  
——

  
One by one, everyone scurried into Toriel’s home, taking odd seats here and there. First Papyrus, never one to be late. As he would say, “being late is a disgrace and I don’t have time for anyone who is!”

Next came Alphys and Mettaton, shockingly side by side. Toriel thought they still had issues to work through, since it was widely known Alphys had done unwarranted experiments and Mettaton had been an unwilling patient...but she guessed everything was forgiven, at least a little. Undyne was over the moon to see her girlfriend, but the fish woman was far too focused on finding Frisk to really make time to chat or flirt.

Toriel appreciated her determination.

Then, finally, through the barely big enough door, Asgore came squeezing through, trident in hand and cape draped over back. He was late. Unimpressed, Papyrus scowled.

“Asgore! How kind of you to join us!” Toriel said hesitantly. He was as intimidating as ever. However, his timid smile almost made the whole room forget about his frightening stature.

“Hello, Tori.” His voice rumbled.

The house seemed to breathe a sigh a relief. He was in a good mood. Toriel had thought inviting him wasn’t the best idea before, but Frisk was just as important to him as they were to her. He needed to know.

He took a seat at the biggest armchair the house had, relaxing and setting his trident against the wall. Every monster now settled and quiet, Toriel spoke.

“Frisk ran away this morning.”

Immediately there was an uproar of concerned voices and furrowed brows, and Toriel tried to get the room back under control.

“Please everyone, calm down-“ questions were thrown at her almost too fast to catch, however, her voice being drowned out by the group of rowdy monsters. Alphys already had her glasses off, crying openly on her girlfriend’s shoulder as Undyne rubbed her back. Mettaton grabbed his hair with his two hands in distress, while using his extra two arms to clutch onto Papyrus and shake him senseless.

“WHATEVER SHALL WE DO?!” The robot screeched. Papyrus, ready to puke his nonexistent guts out, reached out to grab MTT’s arms and twist them painfully.

“you could start by getting the _fuck_ off me, Mettaton!”

Mettaton pulled back with a “ow!” He pouted at the tall skeleton.

“Can every-“ Toriel tried again, to no avail. Alphys howled through her tears, stuffing her face into Undyne’s chest, sobbing. Undyne blushed fiercely at the contact. So far Asgore was completely silent.

That was, until he stood up, hovering above all the emotional monsters. He roared out.

_“SILENCE!”_  He tapped his trident on the wooden floor three times, each thrust shaking the whole house and leaving the room speechless. Satisfied, he gave an appreciative smile, collapsing back into his casual throne. Of course it wasn’t really one, but with how regal Asgore always looked he could make any chair appear as the most spectacular throne.

Papyrus and Mettaton froze in shock, and Undyne gulped. Even Alphys’s tears seemed struck by fear. The lizard-like monster removed herself from Undyne’s breast, sniffling.

Toriel shot Asgore a grateful smile. He nodded toward her, a signal to continue what she was saying. She cleared her throat loudly.

“I know this is alarming...I can barely believe they would do something like this, too...” she choked down a sob, “but I want you all to know we will find them. I won’t rest until their safe, back home. And I need your help...”

“Say no more, Toriel,” Papyrus stood to his full height as he spoke casually, “I shall help find them. After all, they were technically my first real friend, and well, if anything were to cause them harm I would personally execute you for letting it happen.” His tone went dark.

Toriel was quite frankly, struck by his subtle yet not so subtle threat, and all she could do was nod numbly. Why did everything and everyone have to be against her today? She sighed.

“I WILL HELP TOO!” Mettaton said. “THEY HELPED ME WHEN NO ONE ELSE WOULD. IT’S THE LEAST I CAN DO.”

“I-I will search as well...they made me realize all the wrong things I had done in the underground...” Alphys spoke.

Undyne gave one of her widest grins to Toriel, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Toriel could now finally breathe, and she smiled.

“I have one question, though.” Papyrus suddenly said, putting a hand to his chin and staring intently at the goat woman.

“Yes?” She replied.

“Where the hell is Sans?”

  
——

  
The odd duo stared each other down for what felt like an eternity. Flowey looked concerned and surprisingly frightened. Of Frisk or their state, the child wasn’t sure. Maybe he just didn’t understand why a nine year old was out in the wilderness alone and sobbing. That was probably it, yeah.

“Wha-how-when-“ he tried desperately to form words. “Frisk, what are you doing here?”

They were about to answer when he went off again.

“I mean, m-more importantly, why are you here and crying? What’s wrong?”

Flowey was beyond frazzled at this point already, and Frisk felt warm inside at his concern. The bad feelings were still there though, waiting to pounce out at them from behind their heart. They didn’t have time to worry about all the confusing feelings in their chest at the moment, however.

Their first friend was here! And they hadn’t seen each other in months. Frisk was tempted to leap toward him for a hug, but held themselves back. They remembered the small flower saying he didn’t like much physical contact once upon a time. They did smile however, tear tracks still indicated on their cheeks, eyes sore. Flowey must have noticed their joy, because he laughed nervously.

“Never mind, we can get to the more pressing questions later, I guess...right now it’s just really good to see you.” He said under his breath. Frisk was grateful. They were too exhausted to be expected to answer questions at the moment. Overcome with emotion, Frisk once again collapsed onto the grass, taking in the smells around them.

Flowey sat next to them awkwardly. His lopsided grin reached Frisk’s eyes.

“You can hug me, y’know...” he whispered, “b-but don’t make it a regular thing!” A bright red hue conquered his entire face, and his pedals drooped sheepishly. Frisk couldn’t help but giggle. He looked like such a tsundere.

They unceremoniously wrapped their hands around his base, not letting this opportunity go for even a second. They rested their cheek on one of his soft pedals, snuggling it like a lifeline. Flowey hesitantly returned the gesture, trying his best to cover their back with his two leaf hands. Hugging a flower was a lot harder than Frisk expected, but they didn’t care.

The silence between them grew longer as they embraced. It wasn’t tense, wasn’t awkward; just peaceful and comforting. Frisk loved it. One too many times had they been surrounded by never ending noise, loud, suffocating; wrong. Yet this quiet felt so right, and they relished in it.

“I don’t claim to know what’s going on with you,” Flowey said in their ear, almost too low to hear, “but I want you to know you can talk to me. That might sound stupid, and I just now realized what a Mom thing that is to say oh my-“

He was cut off by a sharp laugh, Frisk shivering with ecstasy. He was glad he made them laugh. Carefully, almost bated, Flowey pulled away. For a split second Frisk expressed their disappointment, but it was gone faster than he could process. He gazed into a single lidded eyes, catching a hint of brown underneath its midnight black.

“Are you up for a question?” N-no pressure of course!” He rushed to say the last part. The child made a small sound in the back of their throat. They leaned back a smidge, hands on knees, eyes to nowhere in particular. It was funny how the hardest question of the day would probably be him just asking if they were ready for questions. Flowey must have realized this as well.

“Ah shoot-that was a question...”

Frisk grinned at him, still thinking. Answering one (other) question couldn’t hurt...right? Unsure, the young ambassador chewed on their finger, biting down just hard enough to sting. They saw the hope in their friend’s eyes, hesitated, and nodded.

He was unsurprisingly shocked, yet pulled himself together. Frisk was afraid he may have forgotten his question for a moment, with him just standing upright, tight lipped in front of them.

“Why...did you run away, Frisk?” he said clearly.

Frisk took back their previous thought about one question being harmless. Out of all the questions he could of ask, it had to be the most loaded one? How did he even know they’d ran away? As if reading their mind, Flowey explained.

“I just figured that’s the reason you’re here...it wasn’t hard putting the pieces together a minute after finding you here crying.” Frisk visibly cringed, looking down at their dirt caked shoes. They could just not answer, leaving Flowey without explanation. Then again, Frisk felt their chest constrict at the thought of his worried expression and sad eyes, and they felt as though they owed an answer to him, somehow.

“I saw _him.”_ They whispered, Flowey leaning in cautiously.

“Who?”

That was stepping directly over the one question agreement, but Frisk didn’t notice, too drowned in deep thought.

 

  
“My,” they choked, _“father...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love reading and replying to any comments or questions, so if you enjoyed, or think things could be improved, please leave a review! ^___^ 
> 
> (God have mercy on my soul writing is exhausting)


	6. Shut Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk’s past self has had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, especially since there’s a lot of blood mwahahaha! Lol. Just so you know before hand, this is a flashback chapter. Frisk’s original name wasn’t, in fact, Frisk. They figured out the name part soon after this string of events. Back then they didn’t know who they were, but thanks to a friendly neighborhood math teacher, they were able to figure it out. :)
> 
> (Update: I feel like I should put a warning here for sensitive material.) WARNING: child abuse, blood and gore, heavy cursing.

_“Don’t make this harder than it already is, Francis.” His mother said, a little too dismissively. The child looked down, tears barely concealed. Francis stood fidgeting on the tile, hair wet and top naked. He tried not to sniffle._

_“But mama, I like my long hair...” He spoke in a tiny whisper. Mrs. Magnolia glared and scoffed. The craft scissors were still_ _held tightly within her grasp. She flicked her son on the back of the head. He yelped, and held his skull protectively._

_“Is that good for nothing teacher filling your head with garbage again? My son’s mind will not be corrupted by someone whom I pay to teach him math!”_

_Francis was quick to defend his teacher, fearing for her already low income. Even worse, the thought of her possibly getting fired._

_“N-no, it’s not like that! She hasn’t spoken of such things since you f-fired her daddy! Please just cut my hair, I won’t complain!”_

_Mrs. Magnolia put a pointed nail on his cheek, mouth turned at a weird angle. It made his heart turn upside down in his still chest._

_“Don’t tell me what to do, young man. I will do whatever I have to do to keep my family’s reputation **intact.** Understand?” She smiled sweetly. Francis knew that smile as a warning, and he subconsciously scratched at a scar on his lower arm._

_“Yes, mama...”_

_He looked at the scissors held loosely in her fingers, sharp, pointed, accurate. The lunch in his stomach had the urge to rise in his throat. He swallowed, hard. Over the course of seven years, his hair had grown down nearly to his waist. His parents never did have a watchful eye, so the long locks had a chance to grow, and Francis would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of them._

_He supposed all good things must end, because just that week his mother finally took a good look at her only offspring, frowning. “Has your hair always been that long?” Of course it wasn’t always that long, hair grows, but he kept his mouth shut. Before he could protest, she reached into a drawer and pulled out her art scissors._

_Francis was tempted to run and hide under some covers at the time. Now it sounded like a stupid thing to do. If he did it he would end up with cut hair and a bruise to the cheek._

_The sound of snipping made him stare at the mirror. Each piece fell to the floor like a giant spider, his toes tingling at the sensation of bristles. He bit the inside of his cheek._

_“You’ll look and feel so much better after this, darling. Don’t worry.” Mrs. Magnolia stated with much conviction. Francis didn’t believe her one bit. After the remnants of his brunette ‘do were chopped off, his mother put down the scissors gently._

_“Wait here.” She said, and then left the room. Taking this time to examine his new cut, Francis leaned forward toward the glass, tipping his head to get a round about peek. The job was patchy and uneven, though he expected nothing perfect. His mother wasn’t a hairdresser, after all._

_When he heard the snap of a closing door he jumped, peering back to see his mother with...an electric razor? He gulped._

_“What’s that for?” He asked hesitantly._

_“To shave the rest, silly!” She laughed. “You’ll look so handsome with a buzz cut.”_

_Francis highly doubted that._

_——_

 

_It was his (their?) birthday. Some might’ve celebrated with decorations, hanging from the ceiling and trickling down in an array of color. Some people might’ve had a piñata, filled to the brim with candy, and dozens of children would’ve rushed toward the sweet pile, the birthday kid coming out with the most treats. Some families would have candles on a cake, smiling and singing, older but happy._

_But not his (their.) birthday. Their birthday was nothing like a fantasy, ripped straight out of a fairytale book. Their birthday was grim. Grim like the yellow stains on furniture, grim like the stench of alcohol. Grim was their life now, and they had no hope of it getting better._

_The only indication that they’d aged at all was the calendar from years ago, hanging decrepit on the wall. It was Wednesday, and on Wednesday was old writing in purple sharpie._

_“Francis’s birthday.” Followed by eight small hearts._

_Francis hated that name. It didn’t fit them, it was tainted. Their mother gave them that name, and Francis didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. She was gone, in her pink, chipped car, gone to who knows where. Probably living another life, with a husband and a different child that’s actually useful._

_The thought made them rage and despair at the same time. A single, rogue tear ran down their cheek._

_**“̴̊͂͜H̶̨͎́̑é̸͇̥͇̌̈́ỹ̵̡͍,̴̧̇̋̋ ̸͓́ḃ̴͓͇̻̈́r̵̲̞̒́̅ͅâ̸͙t̴͔͖́̔̍.̶̩̤̦͂͠”̷͎̮̈ ̶̟͚̏͛** _

_Francis zipped around to see their father, tall and imposing. His beard was scraggly as usual, his hair unkempt. His tongue slipped out to lick his chapped lips, and the overwhelming smell of liquor assaulted the child’s nostrils. His eyes were sullen._

_**“̶̧͆I̶̧̦͊͗̇ ̸͎͒͘d̷̨̉́͝ő̸̜̪n̷͉͒’̸͓̗̆͜t̸̞̪͚͂̔͠ ̵̯̔̚t̵͕̀̍͠h̷͉̲̬͒̂̋ì̷͖̯̫n̶͇͉̘͛k̸͓̔ ̸̢̗͂͗y̶̫͊́̔o̷͖̰̪̾͆̅ù̸̪̚͠ ̷͇͖̀͠͝h̷̢̼̫̋̑̀a̶̬͠v̸̜̭̊͜e̵͉̎̂͝ ̴̻̭̳̃t̷͈̀̅h̷͜͝ë̷̝̼́͠ ̸̤̠͉̆̊͝r̸͕̄̓͠ḯ̴̪͎g̴̯͚̰̾h̷͕̣͇̿͋t̷̡͔͕̓̋͌ ̶͈̂͒̅ṯ̸̫́̀͘ó̶̮̑ͅ ̴̞͍̑b̸̫̭͌̂é̵̬̂̓ ̸̛̺̏c̴̺̈̃̈́r̵̤̱̀͆ŷ̶̟̜̤i̶̓͌̆ͅṋ̴̥̈̈́͠g̴̳̿ ̷̻͑̉r̶̞̮͎̔͋į̴̰͍̔͝g̴̭͘h̵̰͉̉t̵̩̰͈͗͂̇ ̶̢͖͈̔̇n̵͙̏́̿o̵͖̺̼͋w̷̯͋̂̎.̸̭͛̋͌”̸̮̹͔̀͂ ̸̢̻̥͊** _

_Before the pain could be registered in their brain, a hand welted them across the face, making them fall unceremoniously onto the hard tile floor. They reached a small hand to the forming bruise, wincing. A wet chuckle mixed with coughs entered their ears. He was laughing again, at their weak body and shrinking stature in the presence of him._

_Though they were still scared, his guffawing only fueled the boiling hate inside them. It was hot and ready to burst. A sudden bravery set in their bones, they stared up at the drunken man, unblinking. Their hand formed a fist._

_**“̸̖͓͙̃P̶̣͔̹̀ă̴̛̲͝ṫ̴͇ḩ̵̡͉̌̉e̵͍̊̓̃t̴̛̬͎͔̂͌i̷̥͕͋͂͘c̴̢͖̳͑͊͛.̸͚͑”̴̟̥͒̈͝** _

_“Shut up.”_

_For a moment, his face contorted into a shocked expression, soon to transform into a fierce glare._

_**“̶̩̣̆̒W̶̺̗̫̄͝h̵͔̗̫̽̊͝ą̶̙̀̒t̴͉̭̰̆̃ ̸̡͖͈̚t̷̗͓̿h̷̨̩̠̄ḙ̷̡̧̛̽̃ ̷̲̊f̴͍̩̞͐̉̽û̶͖̳̜̅ĉ̷̜̲̚k̸͚͇̋̋̕͜ ̶̛̞̈́̎d̴̟̑̎i̴̡̞͇͌̈́͝d̴̼̰̭͛̏̔ ̸̣͙̫̀̓y̵͓̒̔͋ȯ̷̱͈̯ǘ̸̺ͅ ̵̫̺̀̕j̵̩͉͂̌̒͜u̶͓͖͎͌͂̅ṡ̷͓͊͐ͅt̸̥̯͓͝ ̷̭̀̇s̷̹͂ȃ̸̛̝͎̻ỵ̷̍ ̴͉́̕t̴͕̫́̀̕o̸̬͈̒͋͒ ̸̨̙̹̽̇m̶̥͎̈ȩ̷̠̏?̷̛͇̈́”̷̙̼͔̈́̈́̇** _

_Resolve strengthening, Francis sat up, the words slipping out with ease._

_“I said,” they mumbled, “ **shut up.** ”_

_It was a punch this time, straight to the nose, and a resounding crack echoed throughout the house. They gave a muffled scream behind their hand, clutching desperately to a surely broken bone. Blood spilled in between their fingers, entering their mouth, staining their teeth red._

_Salty._

_The child stumbled and tripped over clumsy feet, collapsing against the wall where the calendar remained. It shook rigorously before settling._

_**“̵Y̷o̶u̷’̵r̷e̵ ̴d̴e̴a̸d̸.̸”̸** _

_Another fist glided toward them, fast. Flight-or-fight response kicking in, Francis quickly rolled out the way, shaky hands and feet bringing them upright. Their breath was now labored, chest heaving in and out. Their father gave a angry groan. He turned to face them, brows furrowed and cheeks red with rage. Despite the pounding in their head, Francis ran the opposite direction, approaching the kitchen._

_In the man’s stupor, he stumbled after them, right knuckle crimson with his own child’s blood. Nothing would feel right until he murdered that little shit._

_Meanwhile, Francis was in the dimly lit kitchen, frantic. Their eyes landed on the phone across the room. If it wasn’t long dead, they would’ve maybe been able to call the police. What was the policemen’s number again anyway? Now they were getting off track. Frightened pupils scanned the place up and down, body tense, cramping._

_There was many cooking supplies: spoons scattered on the counter, forks stabbed into a cutting board, towels, soup ladles, long forgotten drawings on the fridge, a kitchen knife-_

_**A kitchen knife.** _

_Sweat covered hands clutched desperately onto the medal piece hanging out of the dilapidated sink, fingers slipping and being slit. Francis cried out, but still gripped the knife, getting into position. They held it out in front of them, blood dripping, determined, and terrified._

_**“̷T̴h̴e̶r̵e̸ ̴y̸o̴u̸ ̸a̵r̵e̶ ̷y̸o̴u̸ ̷l̸i̵t̵t̴l̵e̵ ̴b̵i̸t̸c̶h.”**  he said, appearing from behind the corner. His eyes were animalistic and bloodshot._

_“Get away from me, dada...” he took a step forward. “I said get away!” They warned once again, screaming it. The knife in their hands shook vigorously. He didn’t listen, this time taking two steps. Three. Four._

_“STOP!” They wailed, eyes closed. With such speed it disoriented the man, Francis lunged._

_**SCRCH.** _

_The knife was plunged deep within their father’s abdomen, just below the stomach, gurgling red. Blood squirted lazily, hitting the child’s cheeks. Shocked, Francis finally looked up, expression clouded. The man’s face was ghastly, a hint of blood dripping down his lower lip. He made a tiny sound, deathly and haunting._

_“Uuuuhghg...”_

_Hot tears filled Francis’s eyes, and they had the urge to apologize. The grip they had on the knife’s hilt was bruising. Suddenly, the two hundred pound man collapsed backward, bringing the medal weapon with him. He convulsed on the floor, the kitchen now painted completely crimson. Then, he stilled, laying pale on the tile._

_While the last breath was drawn from his body, the eight year old stood at his boots, feet glued to the ground. Their clothes were soaked in the blood of their father, and their scalp felt even more bare than the day its hair was shaved. They would never admit it, but..._

_  
They loved the silence._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you couldn’t tell what Frisk’s dad was saying throughout this, here’s a little guide in chronological order:
> 
> “Hey, brat.”
> 
> “I don’t think you have the right to be crying right now.”
> 
> “Pathetic.”
> 
> “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
> 
> “You’re dead.”
> 
> “There you are you little bitch.”
> 
> And that’s all, folks! Till next time! :D


	7. Update

Alright, so: I’d love to continue writing this story. I know, I know, I said before I’d leave it unfinished, but that just doesn’t feel right anymore. Although, I’ve noticed some serious problems with it. I could just finish it now, but to be honest, I’m not sure if it would feel REALLY complete until I went through it and rewrote certain parts, or just scrap it entirely and start again.

So that brings me to a question. Rewrite or continue?

I’d really love your feedback, from anyone who’s still interested in reading this. Just comment and let me know! 

Bye for now!

**Author's Note:**

> Not even Frisk is indestructible.


End file.
